I’m so going to dock his pay for this. Turning his attention back to Kim, he couldn’t help but love the sense of freedom that came with what they now had to do. It was a matter of tradition. No one would think it was anything more than that. There wouldn’t be any pressure for them to take things too far, and yet, it was an opportunity for him to make up for running away after their first kiss.

  If Kim decided that she didn’t want things to continue on, then she could easily laugh it off and Blake would know exactly where things stood between them.

  If she liked it, if she wanted to feel her mouth against his once again—that was a bridge they could decide to cross when they were alone once more.

  He gave her hand still holding his shirt a pat, forcing her to relax her death grip. “We’re not getting out of this until we give the crowd what they want.”

  Her mouth fell open, drawing his attention to those lush lips of hers. Blake took that as the barest of permissions to continue. Pushing away from the wall, he wrapped one hand around her waist to pull her tight against him, and the other he shoved into her hair.

  Fuck, it really was as soft as he remembered.

  The encouraging sounds from the women watching dissipated, until the only thing Blake could hear was their ragged breathing. The spectators no longer mattered to him. As far as he was concerned, they were all alone.

  “Merry Christmas, little elf.”

  He held his eyes open until it was painful, wanting to burn the sight of Kim’s lust-soaked face into his memory. The first brush of his lips against hers was tentative, a soft barely there caress that sent a shudder through him nearly as strong as the first time they’d done this. One of her hands found its way around his neck, her nails digging into the skin, while the other held on tight to his biceps. She took a deep breath, the rush of air against his mouth heightening his anticipation. When she brushed her tongue across his lips, what little resolve he still had, snapped.

  Blake opened his mouth, the need to taste her all consuming. An explosion of eggnog and rum, mixed with the taste of woman, made his senses drunk. He would have known this was Kim from the smell and feel of her beneath him, even without seeing her. The press of her breasts against him wasn’t enough, his need to feel more rising with each moment their kiss continued. It would have taken no time to strip her of her shirt and free those perfect globes from their restraining bra. His fingers would tease her nipples until she begged him to fuck her.

  Deepening the kiss, he explored her mouth, running his tongue across hers for a moment, before pulling back to suck on her bottom lip. Kim moaned, her nails digging further into his skin, even as she pressed her body harder against him.

  It wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough.

  While his body screamed for more, his brain reminded him that they had an audience.

  Shit, they had an audience.

  He broke the kiss with regret, lifting his head to see if she was as affected as he was. Her glazed expression told him everything he needed to know. This meant Blake had a decision to make.

  As if on cue, they both turned to look at the crowd at the same time. The women exploded into another deafening roar of cheers as he stepped away from Kim. Not that they mattered. His gaze returned to her, gauging her reactions. Her lustful expression morphed into shock and embarrassment far faster than he would have liked. Kim might be a ball of energy and no stranger to garnering attention from others, but he knew she was uncomfortable.

  If only he could take her back to his place and continue what they’d started. He could tell she felt the same current he had run between them. It was something better suited to a private exploration.

  Blake held her gaze for a moment longer, before turning his attention back to the group. “Santa, your ride is about to depart.”

  “Ladies, it’s been wonderful. I must now get back to my workshop to discipline one of my elves.”

  “Was she naughty, Santa? Will you spank her?”

  “He was very naughty. He took Santa’s sleigh out for a spin when he wasn’t supposed to. And yes, there will definitely be a spanking.” Greg winked and waved at the group before scurrying off to get dressed.

  Blake rolled his eyes and stepped out into the foyer. Kim didn’t move, her body frozen in place in the middle of the doorway. He should leave well enough alone, at least until he had a chance to work things out in his own mind. He respected and liked her too much to lead her on when he wasn’t able to do anything about...whatever the hell this was turning into.

  Still, he couldn’t leave things like that. With his hand on the doorknob, he looked back. “Kim?”

  She half turned toward him. “Yeah?”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow’s Saturday. We’re not open.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  When he stepped out into the cold night air, he realized the temperature didn’t bother him as much as it had earlier. No, tonight he’d go home and mull over the mess that his life had become. Tomorrow, he had to make his mind up one way or the other about the tiny elf that had worked her way into his life, once and for all.

  * * *

  “I’ve seen a lot of people kiss in my time, but that was the fucking hottest thing ever, boss.”

  Blake tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “It was just tradition. It didn’t mean anything.”

  “You are so full of shit.”

  “You can walk home, you know.”

  Greg chuckled. “I could, but then you’d have guilt for leaving me out on the street half naked. Besides, you know I’m right.”

  Blake had thought the brief kiss they’d shared back at Nicks had been a proper one. He must have been really fucking rusty, because he’d more than proven himself wrong tonight.

  Greg turned in his seat, pulling the seatbelt tight across his coat. “So?”

  “So what?”

  “So, what are you going to do about it? I heard what you said to her. About seeing her tomorrow.”

  “I’m not going to do anything. I’ll go over and we’ll talk.”

  Greg hummed and started tapping on the side of the door. “You know what I think?”

  “Not really.”

  “I think you need to make a statement.”

  “I don’t generally make statements.”

  “I think you should let me teach you a few moves and you should put on a show for her.”

  Blake nearly slammed on the breaks. “What?”

  “Come on. It would be a blast. Me and one of the boys would get to tease you, teach you a few things, and Kim would understand exactly what you wanted from her.”

  The thought of him stripping was beyond ludicrous. “You’re insane.”

  “No, I’m brilliant. You can’t deny you don’t want to get together with her. Not after what I saw tonight. Kim is also brilliant. She’s going to be expecting you to come over and have the chat. But talking doesn’t always get you where you want to go. You need to show her.”

  “There’s no way on Earth I’m going to strip for Kim. So drop it.”

  Because it was a stupid idea.

  Idiotic.

  It wasn’t as though he could dance. Or had the body for it. Even if Kim seemed more than a little interested in looking at him. And kissing him.

  Blake shifted in his seat and stepped on the gas a bit harder.

  Stripping for Kim simply wouldn’t happen.

  Ever.

  Chapter Five

  Kim was not the most patient person in the world. She’d learned how to distract herself so she’d be able to manage the time and not drive herself crazy. But when she knew something was coming, and that something was exactly what she wanted, her mind did mean and nasty things that prevented her from being a normal human being. Like stopping her from being able to work out, or to figure out how to make an egg salad sandwich.

  It was egg salad for fuck’s sake. How hard could it be?

  She dumped the still runny eggs into a bowl, slapped a hunk of cold butter on top and waited for her bread to toast. Breakfast for supper worked too. She wasn’t about to substitute her glass of wine for a coffee though, knowing the caffeine would do nothing to improve her mood.

  Blake hadn’t shown up here at her home yet, nor was he answering his cell phone. It was now past 6:00 p.m., and she doubted he’d be making good on his promise.

  Bastard.

  Bing Crosby’s voice floated in from her bedroom where White Christmas was playing on one of the local channels. She loved this part of the movie and yet, she couldn’t drag up the energy to move her body to go see it. Bing had a glow to him in that scene, a soft look of sentimental contentment that infused itself into his song. Kim had been fascinated with the movie since she was a kid for that very reason, always wanting to know what it would feel like to be that Zen with the world.

  For a brief moment last night when Blake was kissing her, she thought she understood. Her body had electrified, become in tune with his as his mouth covered her own. Her heart pounded, but she could feel his matching hers beat for beat. She’d lost track of time and place, couldn’t hear anything beyond the soft moans he made in the back of his throat as he’d deepened the kiss.

  Stunned. That’s what she’d been.

  Sarah and the girls had thoroughly enjoyed teasing the snot out of her after Blake’s departure. No matter how many times she’d tried to redirect them back to the evening’s schedule, no one was interested.

  Who was that?

  He’s hot. Did he use lots of tongue?

  Can you get him as the next Naughty Nick?

  If you’re not interested, can I have his phone number?

  Kim hadn’t thrown that many dirty looks to discourage people since her grad class pub crawl. The bugger of the situation was that she had no claim whatsoever on Blake. Until the moment of the kiss—the first one, not the second—she couldn’t have definitively said he saw her as any more than his reliable little holiday helper and seasonal friend. Lots of wishful thinking on her part and the occasional mixed signal, but nothing she could point to and say, hey look, he wants to have sex again, or dinner, or something. Clearly, there was something else going on in that head of his, something Kim was too scared to think about.

  Where the hell was he?

  Her mushy eggs and nearly burned toast were consumed with determination as she watched Bing and his buddy Danny Kaye shuffle across her flat screen looking more than happy with the girls. The wine quickly followed, leaving an odd mix of flavors in her mouth. Still, it was better to face the music with a slight buzz than sit around and sulk because she’d been stood up by her boss...who’d had his tongue down her throat the night before...and appeared to have enjoyed things.

  Kim groaned and flopped back against her pillows, refusing to watch any more.

  “What the hell am I doing?”

  Their kiss by the bathroom had been a strange, almost surreal event that she would have questioned if it happened if it hadn’t been for the recurring fantasies she’d furiously masturbated to ever since. She’d gotten the impression that had been more than a little impulsive on his part, something that he’d regretted given his disappearing act.

  And last night Blake had been forced into kissing her. There was no way Sarah and the girls would have let him escape without a good showing. He’d always been a good sport when it came to things like that and she wasn’t surprised he’d been willing to play along. His quirky sense of humor and ability to roll with the punches was one of the reasons Naughty Nicks had become so successful in such a short time.

  Maybe he simply wanted to see her today to apologize for taking advantage of the situation. That was exactly the type of thing Blake would do. He’d blame himself, writing the evening’s events up to something outside of his control. No wonder he was dragging his feet. He was probably in the office writing a speech, making sure it wouldn’t be offensive to her lest she quit, leaving him high and dry.

  The sound of the doorbell echoed through her apartment and set her heart racing. Kim sat bolt upright, her head throbbing in protest from the sudden change in her orientation. Of course he’d show up now. She’d taken the effort to look good, all of which meant nothing after an afternoon of moping. Touching her hair, she could only imagine the state she must look. There was a coffee stain on the thigh of her jeans and her Snoopy Christmas T-shirt now sported an impressive set of wrinkles.

  Oh well, he better not say anything if he expected to leave with his jingle balls attached.

  Kim made it to the door by the third ring, and still needed a moment to collect herself before she could open it. Because it was Blake standing on the other side—she hoped—and he’d never been to her apartment before. Not once. Normally, she’d go through on a last-minute tear, cleaning up whatever she could. But considering the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on today, the pile of laundry on her couch shouldn’t be a big deal.

  Closing her eyes, she flicked the lock and pulled the door open. “It would have been better to have stated an actual time so I didn’t waste my whole day.”

  There wasn’t a sound, which forced Kim to actually look at her visitor. Instead of seeing Blake, or God forbid the pizza guy, the only thing her brain was able to register was the color red.

  Lots and lots of red.

  With some white around the fringe. And a giant white fake beard.

  “No,” she said in little more than a whisper. It would have simply been too ridiculous to rub her eyes, ensuring that the vision before her was real.

  It was a Santa Claus.

  The jacket of the man fell open to reveal a bare chest, covered with only the lightest dusting of hair.

  No, it wasn’t Santa. This was one of her Naughty Nicks.

  “Shit.” Kim resisted the urge to lick her lips, but she wasn’t strong enough to tear her gaze away from that barest hint of flesh to look into the eyes of the man standing there. She thought she could identify each of the guys by their midsections, but apparently she needed a refresher course.

  “Blake sent you here?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Kim gasped. She knew that voice better than anyone else. Maybe the wine had gone to her head and was making her hallucinate. “Blake?”

  “Mind if I come in? It’s drafty out here.”

  Kim backed away, more out of shock than any true acknowledgment of his request. “What are you doing? I mean, I know what you’re doing here, you told me you were coming. But why are you here dressed like that?”

  He took up most of the small doorway as he pushed his way in. The large black bag that hung over his shoulder banged against the wall. Flipping it around to hold it out in front of him tugged more at his Santa jacket, exposing more of the tantalizingly naked flesh beneath.

  Oh, this was fucked up. And strangely erotic.

  “Living room is this way?” Blake didn’t bother waiting for her response, instead moving past her. “Nice place you have here.”

  “Thanks.” Any other time, she’d have rolled with the punches and simply accepted what was being thrown her way. But there was no way she could get this worked out in her overactive brain. Blake was finally here, but not in the way she’d ever imagined. “I said, why are you wearing that?”

  “I need you to come sit down, please.”

  “Are you going to answer my questions?”

  “I will. Once you sit down.” He grabbed hold of the arms of her reclining chair and pulled it away from the couch. Next he shifted the coffee table so it was against the far wall. The result of those two moves opened up a respectable amount of space where someone would be able to dance.

  Or strip, as the case might be.

  Holy shit, Blake was going to strip for her.

  “This chair.” He patted the cushion, sending the fake beard fluttering.

  The entire situation was far too ridiculous for words. Instead of protesting or bothering with any more questions, Kim did as he asked and sat down in the chair. Her legs weren’t going to keep her upright much longer anyway.

  He straightened up and braced his hands on his hips. She could barely make out his smile from beneath the piled curls. “Comfy?”

  “Sure.”

  “Positive?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can get you a blanket or—”

  “Why are you dressed like Naughty Nick, Blake?”

  He held up his finger for a moment, before going after his Santa’s bag. A small portable MP3 player was placed on the newly relocated coffee table. When he pressed Play and the Naughty Nick opening music started up, every bit of moisture left Kim’s mouth.

  “No.” This was far too fucked up for words. “You’re not.”

  Blake moved into the center of the room and tugged the Santa beard down so it hung around his neck. Now able to see his face, there was no mistaking the mischief in his eyes or the determined set of his jaw.

  “I really, really am.” He reached up and pulled the Santa hat off and tossed it her way.

  Kim caught it easily, loving how his heat and smell clung to the fabric. “Why?”

  “It seemed the logical next step.”

  “From mistletoe?”

  Blake shrugged. “Do you want me to stop?”

  Did she? Kim had been fascinated with him for almost as long as she’d known him. Hell, hadn’t she spent most of the day pining away because she thought he’d stood her up? Was she going to say no, kick his ass to the curb and have nothing to do with the man she’d fantasized about since the one night they’d had sex?

  Screw that.

  Kim took the Santa hat and slipped it on her head, before leaning back. “Give ’er, Nick.”

  With a flick of his wrist, he turned up the volume so the music filled her apartment. With two quick steps he stood in the center of the room directly in front of her. With his gaze locked on her, Blake began to swing his hips in time with the rhythm. It was initially a bit awkward, but he quickly got into the beat. Blake pulled the Santa beard off, tossing it over her head.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11